


Sleepover

by aypreal



Series: Otayuri: A Playlist [6]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Character's Name Spelled as Viktor, Crushes, Dancer Yuri, Hormones, M/M, Maybe - Freeform, Seduction, Teasing, University AU, VictUuri, Yuri is thirsty af, gymnast mila, i tried guys, otabek is a little clueless, otayuri - Freeform, photographer viktor, socialite yuuri, swimmer otabek, viktor and mila know whats up, wet dreams
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-28
Updated: 2017-11-28
Packaged: 2019-02-08 03:22:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12855672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aypreal/pseuds/aypreal
Summary: “We don’t want our staff popping boners during the shoot.” The blonde only throws the nearest pillow towards Viktor’s face. He missed. “That would be very unprofessional, Yura. Also, my Yuuri will  be here in a few hours so please go back to your room later, okay?”“Can you act like you believe on ‘blood is thicker than water’ and not throw me into my demise, please?” Yuri moans, “I just had an embarrassing moment out there and you’re throwing me back to Otabek’s room like I’m not in danger of potentially spending my entire life in jail because I was weak and succumbed to sexual harassment?”Or Viktor traps his cousin into an athletes-naked-for-charity shoot and therefore, forces him into watch in horror as said crush pose naked for the camera. Day-wet-dreaming is triggered.





	Sleepover

**Author's Note:**

> I suggest to watch and listen Hayley Kiyoko's Sleepover MV.

When he opened the door to the room he was going to stay in for the next two days, Yuri was sure he’s going to kill Viktor.

No, the blonde freshman does not care that they are blood related nor that he could potentially leave his grandfather early to pursue his career in jail but, he _will_ kill Viktor. 

Well, technically, Yuri was also at fault here. If only he was more careful with his surroundings, if only he locked his bedroom door to make sure his roommate cum cousin stays out of his room, then he won’t be in the situation that he’s in now. 

But, no. Unfortunately, out of exhaustion, he forgot to lock his bedroom door and the next day, Viktor showed him a video of himself whispering secrets in his sleep. That behaviour is not unusual for Yuri. He sleep-talks when he over exhausts himself. Yet, he didn’t expect that his own body would betray him. There, he watched his own unconscious body whispering what could possibly be a _really_ good wet dream with the man of his dreams.

Said man of his dreams is now looking at Yuri from across the one-bed room.

Now, Yuri wouldn’t usually care for people. He can always hide his shyness in guises of anger and arrogance especially when he feels cornered. Yuri can’t do that in front of this particular man though. Because the man of Yuri’s wildest (and personally deemed impossible) dreams is also his best friend — Otabek Altin. There is no escape to his situation for now.

Let’s get some history in first.

The friendship between them is a new one; after all, Yuri is only on his first year in uni while his friend is already on his third. The blonde majors in Dance, specifically Ballet, while Otabek is with the Swimming Team.

Sports students and Art students rarely get along in the university — which was the situation on how they met. The current Senior Captain of the Swimming Team developed a habit of brushing Yuri’s fur the wrong way one day and was gifted by a satisfying kick to the balls by Yuri.

The underlings who were with the said captain reacted in variety, most laughed but there were at least two of them that were not very happy about Yuri degrading their Captain like that and were more than ready to punch Yuri’s soul to the next semester.

Luckily, Otabek stepped in. He is the Junior Co-Captain of the team and therefore, had enough footing in the situation to scare the two Sophomores away and order the others to bring the Senior to the pool (not even caring once that maybe they should drop him by the clinic before their training).

Since then, the two of them met up for coffee, day-long rides, or in some cases a two-person group study where Otabek tutored him to pass his minors. Somewhere along the way, he developed a fucking crush on the Junior before he could even say ‘shit’.

At first, it was something really innocent like craving for tight hugs or stolen hand-holding, even simple shared nap-times; but Yuri is 19 and therefore, still at the mercy of his hormonal teenage years. Otabek is in the swimming team. Yuri liked to tell himself that the fact of it alone rests the case of his thirst.

Yuri was happy enough to bring his secret attraction to his grave. 

Until someone else knew.

“Yura,” Otabek called, “Why are you here?”

Wishing to the heavens that he isn’t blushing to his ears, Yuri closed the door behind him and casually strolled to the love couch by the window. The couch is red. Blood red. It’s a blood red couch in the room he’s sharing with Otabek ‘I-can-make-you-wet;-pool-wet-or-otherwise-babe’ Altin. “I could ask you the same thing, asshole. I thought only head captains were invited for this shoot?”

Ever since Viktor Nikiforov (Yuri’s abominable albeit talented cousin) fell in love with his fiance,  Yuuri Katsuki, he wouldn’t shut up about completing this collaboration project. Yuuri, is a shy socialite who probably met Viktor in one of their posh Galas. As far as the blonde danseur knew, Yuuri founded one of the arising foundations out there — the _Born To Make History Foundation._ A movement to support LGBTQA teens out there.

Since then, Viktor talked with the university about it. He is, after all, the most decorated alumnus of the university. Successful in the fields of Arts and Social Movement, the Members of the Board were only more than happy to grant his wishes. They granted him a hefty budget and trusted him the school’s sports captains (or their proxy) for his disposal, of course after making sure that the students were aware what-about and how the fund-raiser will be done.

A project to create a portfolio-cum-calendar of nude athletes in a greenhouse to showcase vulnerability, naturalism, and art (or pornography as per Yuri). Done in collaboration between the BTMH Foundation, the university, and world-renowned photographer, Viktor Nikiforov. 

A world-renowned photographer who left one of his fucking lenses at their apartment and ‘requested’ that Yuri bring it to him (“ _Please bring it, Yura. You do know that I have quite a number of followers in campus still, right? Good. The address is…_ ”)

“I thought your obnoxious team captain volunteered himself for this shit?” Yuri asked. No surprises if JJ Leroy will represent the team. Not only is he the Senior-Captain, but he is also narcissistic enough to do so.

“I thought so too, but Bella forbade him from participating after he injured himself during their last hike.” Otabek answered while he unpacks his bag. “He has a nasty gash on his hip and coach put him out of commission until he heals. Me being here is…” He stopped unpacking for awhile at Yuri recognises an expression that could be translated as something shy coming from the Junior, “Is sort of a last minute change. I hope Nikiforov won’t mind.”

“I doubt he will,” Yuri shrugs, “He’s too excited for this shoot that he probably doesn’t care if we replaced the captains with rabbits.”

Otabek laughs. The kind that makes Yuri look down and hope that the blush on his cheeks won’t show, and the urge to kiss him reckless would disappear. “That’s not what I mean, Yura. I’m not good looking like JJ, but Coach insisted—”

_What?_ “Beka…” Yuri looked at Otabek, “Shut up. What do you mean not good looking?” _You’re hot as hell, you ignorant fool._ “You topped the poll on the Hottest Athletes in the Sports Department, idiot. How’s that for ‘not good looking’?”

“Poll on what?” 

_Shit._ How uncool is that that Yuri actually scan through the gossip columns of their university website and was actually a willing participant of the poll? “Oh nothing. You don’t mind me crashing here, right? My cousin pointed me to this room, didn’t know that I would have a roommate here.”

“Cousin?”

“Viktor.”

Too his credit, Otabek is actually surprised. “You’re cousins with Viktor Nikiforov?”

“A stroke of bad luck, but yeah.” Yuri explains. It is his usual response whenever people reacts to his relation to that sorry excuse of an artist. “Forgot to bring one of his lenses and just when I obediently brought it over, he actually had the nerve to tell me that he also forgot to inform me that the commute back to the city won’t continue until the next day. So, I guess I’m stuck here with you guys, because no way in hell will I make this shoot easier for him after what he put me through.”

Otabek didn’t reply after that, only continued to look at Yuri with wonder in his eyes and his hands in an automatic action to finish unpacking his stuff. Just when the blonde is about to squirm with all the attention, the Junior sighed and replies. “Hmm, I guess if you look closer, genetics can tell.”

Yuri frowns at that, “What does that supposed to mean?” 

Otabek shrugs, “You’re both talented in your own respected fields and,” he pauses to smile at the Freshman, “Definitely, not hard on the eyes either.”

 

 

 

 

Yuri plans to avenge himself. 

When Viktor asked him to play assistant for the shoot, he planned to make the session as hard as possible for Viktor; but how tables turn. 

Yuri is hard. Well, technically it’s a semi, but still.

He can’t really help it when he’s surrounded by athletically well-built human beings. If he is more honest with himself, he only has eyes on one specific athlete. 

The athletes were positioned well in the greenhouse, all perfect in their sculpted muscles and confident in their nakedness. Whatever make up or tool Viktor’s team used to cover their private bits, didn’t even hinder the athletes magnificence. 

Viktor chose the perfect time to shoot. It’s almost late afternoon and the greenhouse glowed with golden rays and vibrant greens. The rays of sunlight look perfect on Otabek’s desert coloured skin and made his usually dark brown eyes, lighter.

Sometimes, in between position rotations, Yuri likes to think that those same eyes follow every movement he does.

_“Yura.”_ Otabek whispered. His eyes reflects mischief and what Yuri hoped — lust. _“We’re on a 15 minute break,”_ His hand is suddenly on Yuri’s arm, his touch — light and teasing. _“I found a secluded area by the dressing canopy earlier. It was hidden by huge-ass bushes of I don’t care what.”_ Then the teasing is gone, replaced instead by a strong grip on his nape. _“The bushes were big enough to hide us…”_

“Yuri!” The blonde brinks and Viktor is still snapping fingers in front of his face. Irritating, but the photographer must have been trying to get his attention. When he finally registers everything, Yuri smacks Viktor’s hand away from his face. The silverette still has a smirk on regardless. “I’m glad you’re done daydreaming, Yurachka. I need some reflector on the right.” Viktor hands him the reflector and shoos him to the right.

Where Otabek is positioned. Yuri looks back to glare at his cousin. What are they, middle schoolers?

Unfortunately, the hate that Yuri was feeling for his cousin fades away the nearer he got to Otabek’s side. For this session, Viktor has Otabek seated on a back rest of a bench. His muscles and golden skin practically glitter under the light. The Junior smiled at him and Yuri took his wonderful time in unfolding the reflector screen to hide the redness of his face. 

“You okay, Yura?” Mila the Gymnastics Captain (and Yuri’s Senior when he was in high school) obviously followed through Viktor’s obvious traps because the smirk on her face explains nothing but teasing.

“Shut up.” Yuri replies before he’s bombarded by instructions on reflector angling.

_“Like what you see, Yura?”_ Otabek’s staring at him again, causing Yuri’s breath to hitch. Then, maintaining the gaze he locked with the young blonde, the Junior leaned further on his bench; expanding the planes of his torso and flexes the muscles that Yuri longed to touch (and possibly lick… Twice. Through out.) _“You’re free to touch, you know.”_ The look on Otabek’s face is pure lust, like he knows exactly how Yuri felt about his body. With how Otabek’s body is positioned, it would be easy to just kneel on the bench and give in to his more carnal wants. 

Now, Yuri knows that he is trapped in the deceiving fantasies of his mind, but things turns to worse when Otabek showcases his best angle yet (the real Otabek anyway). Yuri is still staring and heaven help him when suddenly,  the Junior cranes his head further and lets Viktor’s camera capture the sharp angle of his jaw, the dark promise of his gaze, and ( _holy, fuck, fuck, fuck_ ) the pressure on his bottom lip when his teeth locked on them. 

Something is stirring…

“Yura!” Viktor shouts, “Raise the reflector for a bit!” Yuri refuses, his cheeks too dark from blushing. “Come on now! I don’t need it to be on your hip level!” 

 

 

 

 

Despite how much force Yuri enforces on the hits he make, Viktor won’t stop laughing. Maybe it would make a difference if Yuri chose to hit him with a baseball bat instead of a throw pillow, but someone needs to make do with whatever is available, so the pillow it is. 

“Oh my goodness, Yura,” Viktor attempts in between laughs, “I can’t believe you got —”

“Don’t say it, asshole!” Yuri yells as he tries to make damage on his cousin.

_Okay, fine!_ Yuri screams in his head, _I got hard while staring at a sex-god. Who cares?_ Technically, Yuri cares. His reputation was almost over but it was a good thing that the only people who knew what was happening to him, Mila and Viktor, kept the fiasco in between them. Mila even had the decency to announce that he was sick. Catching up with the young athlete, Viktor announced a break and escorted his cousin back to his own rooms — all the while choking to keep his own laughter.

Therefore, the one-sided pillow fight.

“But seriously though,” Viktor huffs and catches the pillow before it can land further on his face, “It’s a normal body reaction. You have a crush on the guy and he was naked in front of you.” Embarrassed, Yuri tries to smother Viktor’s face on the pillow. Of course his strength is inferior towards the photographer. “I was more surprised that you didn’t ask him out yet.”

“Well, not everyone can be a shameless flirt like you!” Yuri exclaims before giving up on trying to kill his cousin and lands himself on the bed instead. “Nor ask their significant other out during a live broadcasted interview.”

“It got me a fiance, so I would say that there’s nothing wrong with what I did. Anyway,” Viktor says before heaving himself to stand  and make himself more presentable. “I have to continue the shoot, you can stay here for awhile…” 

Yuri only rolls his eyes, already feeling his cousin’s twisted attempts on humour, “We don’t want our staff popping boners during the shoot.” The blonde only throws the nearest pillow towards Viktor’s face. He missed. “That would be very unprofessional, Yura. Also, my Yuuri will  be here in a few hours so please go back to your room later, okay?”

“Isn’t he like, busy as fuck?”

“He wants to see the raw shots and all, and he says he misses me, so—” He shrugs and blushes like an embarrassing teenager and Yuri is not impressed. At all.

“Can you act like you believe on ‘blood is thicker than water’ and not throw me into my demise, please?” Yuri moans, “I just had an embarrassing moment out there and you’re throwing me back to Otabek’s room like I’m not in danger of potentially spending my entire life in jail because I was weak and succumbed to sexual harassment?” 

“That’s not a funny joke, Yura.” Viktor rebukes and Yuri mutters a ‘sorry’. “If you’re that scared of sexually harassing your potential willing victim, then by all means, stay here. But just letting you know, that even if my fiancé can be very shy _I_ have no qualms on exhibitionism.”

“I’m out.” 

 

 

 

 

_“Yura,”_ Sleepy lids slowly open to welcome a blurry view of tan. _“Wake up, kitten.”_ There’s a cool breeze on his chest and Yuri struggles to clear the sleepy fog that blurs his view. He can feel butterflies landing on his torso and finally, everything comes clearer. 

Yuri is on his back with his shirt pulled enough to rest on a bundle just right on his collarbones. Otabek is hovering over him, well balanced by his muscled arms that cages Yuri’s body in between. Green eyes widen at the glorious sight before him and before Yuri can reprimand himself, his eyes are already taking all the information it can get.

The Junior is tan — all over. He is lean, and sexy, and a wet dream come to life. 

_“I’ve been waiting the whole day to have you all to myself, kitten.”_ Goosebumps follow the barely-there touches of Otabek’s lips from it’s position on Yuri’s chest, on his neck, until the word ‘kitten’ was whispered directly to the blonde’s ear. _“And I know you made me wait on purpose, have you?”_ He is staring at Yuri directly this time. A clash of chocolate against broken wine bottles. 

Yuri wants to reply. To say something against the audial torture the Junior is caging him in. His voice cannot be found however. _“I thought I would suffer during this whole shoot, but I guess those who are patient are heavily rewarded after all.”_ Yuri feels the part of his legs as Otabek gently forces his entry between them, successfully slotting his bigger frame against the dancer’s. _“Because here I am, together with my kitten after a year of thirsting after him.”_

The blonde feels a whine wanting to escape him, yet like other attempts before that, there’s nothing but silence from his lips. _“Don’t you force yourself, sweetheart.”_ The smile on Otabek’s face is wicked, like he knows what is going deep inside Yuri — how rough the war is deep inside the blonde. _“The walls are thin.”_

At the whisper of that, something rubs against _him_. _Oh my go—fuck, fuck fuck!_

_“Can you feel me, Yura?”_ Otabek whispers and as if whatever he sees on Yuri’s face satisfies him, the rubbing goes in rougher. _“Feel how much I want you.”_

_Beka! Beka! Beka!_

It’s like he can hear him despite the silence from his side, because Otabek’s eyes widen in mirth as he pauses to confirm something. _“Ah,”_ he smirks, _“I see you want me too.”_

The tension is making everything tight, the coolness of the room, a caress to his heated skin. The eyes that refuse to let go of Yuri’s own gaze is unwavering; the rubbing and the butterfly kisses are both heaven and hell and the blonde wants to shout at his lover to hurry the fuck up or just leave him so he could jerk himself off to remove himself from the torture. _Beka, fuck!_

“So impatient,” The Junior chuckled, “my kitten.” 

Yuri can’t beg. He never begs, but he swears that at that very moment,  his eyes are doing the begging for him because Otabek finally lets up. _Fucking finally._ The Junior sits up on his heels, probably to stare at the mess he makes of his kitten. 

The stare at each other for a while, and for a moment there, Yuri is transfixed at the other man — can’t believe it himself that he is on the same bed with the man of his fantasies, doing the unspeakable. Until he feels the slow, _so slow_ , caress of a finger on his groin.

_“Do you want me, Yura?”_

 

 

 

 

“YES!” He shouts. 

He wakes. 

He pants.

He sits up and swallows the illusion on his dry throat. He is still on the bed, a little sweaty and at the edge of teenage-level of turned-on. 

He sighs, and runs a shaky hand through his sweaty blonde locks. _What the fuck._ The dreams show how his subconscious wants what it can never have.

“Yura?” The door in one corner slams open and Yuri is yet again, overcome by the urge to avenge himself from whatever force that keeps on torturing him.

Otabek is standing by the doorway, hair messy and wet from the shower he obviously ran away from and offering his body droplets that sinfully slide through the slopes of muscle. His eyes are worried, but what really captures Yuri’s thought process are his hands. His left is gripping the knob of the door while the other is locking the towel from exposing the 7th wonder that Yuri wants to see.

“Yura?” Otabek says, “I heard a shout, are you okay?”

_Okay?_ Yuri replies in his mind, _you torture me and ask if I’m fucking okay?_ Unconsciously, he glares.

“Yura?” The grip on the doorknob is released and instead joined the one that is locking the towel from falling. 

Again, Yuri’s eyes zeroes at that. _Fuck, I want that._ He swallows and still remains silent — which only made the other a little fidgety. 

_It has to end sometime, is it?_ Yuri sighs before gathering the confidence his whole clan pounded into his bloodstream and finally stands up. _I need to get you out of my head._

“Beka —”


End file.
